Drunk Traveling, Never Again!

Dear Kousei,

I apologize for taking some time before I can send this reply. I will relate to you the reason for the delay in a while, but I'd just like to say thank you for the letter. All is forgiven regarding the Ulfric illumination fiasco, of course. And don't worry about my Housecarl; she won't bother you while I will it.

Your letter put a much-needed smile on my face, really. I find it amusing how you can carry around the illumination machine and still beat bandits (some of which have a grasp on lightning-based magicka, no less) into submission. Hah! You showed that Rigel Strong-Arm what it really meant to have a strong arm. She ought to have honed her skills prior to adopting such a name. And don't worry, I am already close to saving enough to buy a house in Whiterun. Go savor the rewards of your quest!

Now, as to why I was not able to reply swiftly to the message... I pray to the Divines that you won't think too badly of me after you've read this. I had a drinking game with a man called Sam Guevenne in the Bannered Mare. He promised me a staff as a reward, and I guess it was foolish of me to take on the challenge without even knowing what kind of staff he was talking about.

Will activating the shrine relieve me of my hangover?

Basically, a few tankards of Sam's special ale sent me to the Temple of Dibella in Markarth without so much a memory of what happened the night before. My Housecarl was strangely of no help in this matter, because she also remembered nothing of the events between the Bannered Mare and Markarth. But barely had I recovered my wits when the priestess Senna made me clean up the mess in the temple which she claimed I caused. To make things worse, Sam Guevenne (and of course, the staff he promised me), was nowhere to be found. I did set the inside of Dibella's Temple in order, both as a peace token to the priestesses and as a means to obtain the whereabouts of my erstwhile drinking companion.

Sneaking out in the open ain't easy.

My search brought me afterwards to the little town of Rorikstead. I was quite excited to reach that place, thanks to the song "Ragnar the Red" which I've been hearing from numerous bards in various inns I have visited. Unfortunately, I was confronted by yet another person on the grounds of my ale-induced activity. That man, Ennis, tasked me to retrieve his prized goat Gleda in return for information on Sam. Apparently, I sold the goat to a giant in my drunken state.

Playing cute won't do the trick.

I have yet to engage giants in combat, and I did not intend to engage one any time soon. I had to rely on sneaking to entice Gleda to follow me (oh by the name of Akatosh, did I really smell of her feed?), and even then, I had to run for my life at the last minute. Thankfully, I escaped unscathed with the goat at my heels.

You made me want to get drunk again, my friend.

But all my trouble got me was some advice to go to Whiterun and seek out Ysolda, that aspiring trader. Ugh, what she told me nearly made me black out again. Just to be clear, I am telling you the truth to prevent any misconceptions. I am not getting married, and I intend to cancel that wedding at all costs, even if I have to exchange blows with my supposed-to-be-fiancee (Fiancee?! For the sake of all the gods!) to return the wedding ring to Ysolda. I will be going to Witchmist Grove next; who knows what will confront me there?

I won't blame you if you'd never let me live this event down, Kousei. Yes, the joke's on me if it turned out that the "staff" I won was nothing more than a walking stick or something of that sort. Hopefully you won't ever get into a drunken fix like I did.

Wishing for the best,

Kiya

P.S.

I'm quite flattered that you address me by the "Lady" epithet in your letter, but I assure you it isn't so necessary. I'll gladly continue our correspondence even if you call me by my name only.